Reactions
by NiteOwl
Summary: Had a hard time coming up with a title. Basically Roz hits a rough spot and Frasier and friends are there to help. But how is Roz going to change due to recent events? In Progress - Ch. 3&4 Uploaded 1/4
1. Default Chapter

_Authors Note: Another attempt at a Frasier/Roz fiction. Please review and let me know if you want it to continue or if I should scrap it and start over. Thanks___

_Chapter 1_

"Hello, Dr. Crane?" A voice said amidst loud background noise, when the phone rang at the Elliot Bay Towers at 10:00 pm on a Friday night. 

"Yes, what is it? " Frasier snapped, not appreciating having his latest attempt at composing a sonata interrupted. 

"I'm sorry to bother you but this is Hank the bartender at The Red Rooster Bar on 12th street." 

"Yes, so..." Frasier was still irritable. 

"Look buddy, lose the attitude, I'm trying to be helpful here." The bartender growled. 

"Fine fine, get on with it." Frasier backed off slightly to let the man finish. 

"There's a lady here who's had way to much to drink and is becoming quite a nuisance. Now I could call the cops and have her towed away to the drunk tank, but I kinda felt sorry for her. She seemed like a fairly nice person, so I checked her purse and found your name and number as an emergency contact." 

"I see, well I certainly don't know who you could be talking about, I don't know anyone that would frequent such a, pardon the expression, dump." 

"Look buddy, I'm tired of your attitude. She wandered in off the street and started drinking. Her drivers license says she's Rozalind Doyle, if you aren't going to help then just hang up and I'll call the cops." 

"I'll be there in a few minutes, could I get directions to your err... establishment." Frasier sighed. 

_What in the world could Roz be doing in this part of town?_ Frasier pondered as he drove into one of the seediest areas of Seattle. There were prostitutes hanging out on the corners and adult bookstores and theaters scattered on almost every corner. _She may not frequent the ritzy establishments of the upper class, but this is definitely beneath her usual hangouts._ Frasier was becoming worried and drove a little faster towards his destination. 

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight that greeted him when he entered the front door of The Red Rooster. The place was packed but it only took him a second to see Roz who was dancing provocatively in the center of the room with several approving stares and wolf whistles from nearby ruffians. Trying to act confident he walked through the crowd of burly men who were guzzling their beers. "Roz, don't you think we should go now?" He said calmly as he reached out to take her elbow. 

"No, I wanna stay..." Roz slurred as she pulled away from him, obviously very drunk. 

"Roz, you've had too much to drink, now let me take you home." Frasier was insistent. 

"No, I wanna dance," Roz slurred again, weaving towards a tall bearded man who looked like he might be a pro wrestler. 

"OK, then dance with me" Frasier quickly grabbed her, putting his arms around her before she reached the other guy. Surprised as she didn't pull away but rather melted almost immediately against him, clinging to him for support. "Is something the matter Roz." Frasier tried vainly to find out what was going on as they lightly swayed to the music, or rather Roz swayed and he followed her movements, not quite used to this type of dancing and not quite used to having her pressed so tightly against him. This was very different than a friendly hug, he could tell she was being seductive, whether intentionally towards him or not he wasn't sure.   
  



	2. 

_Chapter 2_

"Let's go Roz," Frasier suggested again several minutes later, his cultural sensibilities hardly able to take the loud and smoky atmosphere any longer. 

"Mmmm...." was all she could respond, barely standing due to the alcohol and offering no resistance when he began supporting her and leading her out of the bar. 

"Hey buddy, wait, she owes us $80" the bartender called out as they passed the bar. 

"I can't believe she drank that much," Frasier muttered pulling out his wallet. "Are you Hank?" 

"Yeah, I'm the one that called ya." 

"Thanks, and keep the change." Frasier dropped a hundred dollar bill on the bar as he continued to lead Roz out, noticing that he got _ "lucky dog"_ stares from the onlookers. 

The ride back to Roz's apartment was pretty uneventful as she passed out the minute he got her into the car. Frasier couldn't figure out for the life of him what had happened to cause this behavior, but he was sure going to find when she got over this. 

They pulled up in her driveway and he woke her up enough to try and help her into the house. 

"Come on.. just a few steps." 

"I think I'm going to be..." and with that Roz threw up all over the front of him, effectively coating them both in the slimy substance. By the time they had reached the front door she had managed to do it twice more. Frasier wrinkled his nose in disgust but tried to refrain from passing out at the unpleasant odor that was assaulting his nostrils. 

By the time they reached the house he was feeling nauseous himself and knew that something had to be done. Considering Roz lapsed back into unconsciousness as soon as he laid her on the sofa, he figured that it wouldn't be to ungentlemanly to clean himself first before he lost the gourmet dinner he had enjoyed just hours before. He hastily peeled off his jacket and black t-shirt, and then his pants also since he could feel the moisture seeping through them. He stopped for a moment feeling extremely out of place in Roz's living room with so little clothing, even if she was completely unconscious. 

He still smelled the strong odor and decided to quickly jump in the shower, pretty sure Roz was going to stay out of it for quite a while longer after consuming so much alcohol. After the shower he went searching for clothing, determined to wear something a little more masculine than the silky robes he was finding, he was no Tewksbury in that respect. Most of the clothes he found were obviously to small. Just as he was about to give up he found a black t-shirt in a drawer. "I had forgotten about that," He recalled as the memory flooded back of a time a year or so ago that Roz had spilled something on her at the station and he had loaned her a radio t-shirt he had just been given by the station that day. "It certainly looks well worn," he noticed. But wasn't going to quibble, at least it fit and he could still maintain some dignity. 

Roz was still passed out on the couch just as he had left her and the stench was still overpowering. Knowing he couldn't very well leave her like this, and yet he couldn't exactly give her a bath either so he did the only thing he could think of which was pick up the phone. 

"Daphne, I know it's really late, but...." Frasier begged Daphne, knowing that he would be hearing it from Niles later for dragging away his wife at practically midnight. Just as he knew she would Daphne agreed to help and was on her way within minutes of his call. 

_LATER_

"So you see why I had to call..." Frasier finished explaining the situation to a tired Daphne. 

"Yes you did the right thing. I just wonder what happened to cause this. Probably a man." Daphne sighed sympathetically as she examined Roz, trying to shake her awake to no avail. 

"Oh please, everytime a woman get's upset it has to be a man!" Frasier grumbled, "maybe she just had a bad uhhh....... oh alright in this case it's probably a man." He gave in sourly. 

"I told you, now help me out here." Daphne grunted as she tried to move Roz. 

"Help, how?" Frasier was perplexed, not sure what to do as he had been thinking Daphne could take care of it all. 

"I'm 4 months pregnant remember, I can't be doing to much lifting." She rolled her eyes. 

"Oh right," the light dawned and Frasier went over to help. He easily picked Roz up and carried her to the bathroom, holding his breath and being careful not to get any vomit back on him. 

"Just lay her in the tub and I'll do the rest." Daphne advised behind him since they both couldn't fit in the small bathroom. Frasier followed her instructions and gently laid Roz in the empty tub before removing himself from the bathroom. "Anything else?" 

"You go find something for her to wear and I'll take care of the rest." Daphne assured him as she took over. 

Even though they were best friends Frasier still felt a little weird going through her clothes. But finally carried the necessary garments, and undergarments to the bathroom and reached his arm in enough for Daphne to take them. 

While waiting for Daphne to finish he couldn't help compulsively cleaning the sofa and the few spots on the floor, throwing their clothes in the washer, and even spraying a little air freshener in the room to make it seem as if nothing was amiss. 

Finally after Daphne announced that it was OK, Frasier re-entered the bathroom to transport Roz to the bedroom. Now all clean and fresh she looked more like she was just sleeping peacefully instead of passed out, Frasier noted as he carried her into the bedroom and laid her down. 

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate your help Daphne." Frasier smiled gratefully as he walked Daphne to the door. 

"Glad I could help, and you did the right thing by calling me. Roz is lucky to have a friend like you to watch out for her. I'd better be getting back to Niles but tell her she can call me if she needs to talk." Daphne said as she left. 

Frasier was thoughtful for a moment before going back into the bedroom to check on Roz. He studied her for a moment, wondering what in the world could have happened to cause her to act so irresponsibly as to go to that part of town and lose control like that. She could have been in real trouble he realized if the bartender had not called him considering the people she had been flirting with. 

He felt very tired as he realized it was already 1 am and the events of the day had really taken their toll. Making sure Roz was comfortable he reached over to turn off the light before taking a pillow to lay on the couch. 


	3. 

_Chapter 3_

Frasier was lightly dozing when he heard a noise coming from the other room and went to investigate. Roz was sitting up urgently fumbling for something. Frasier hastily turned on the light to ask her what was the matter but from the look on her face he realized the problem and barely grabbed the trash can in time. He held her still damp hair away from her face as she once again suffered the effects of too much alcohol. She collapsed back into the pillows obviously miserable as Frasier hastily carried the trash can out to empty it before the stench affected the room. When he came back he carried a small glass of water and a wet washcloth, knowing from a few bad experiences how bad she felt now, and how much worse she'd feel later. She barely had enough energy to sip the water, but smiled very weakly to show her appreciation.. 

He gently wiped her flushed face with the cool washcloth, finally stopping when it had become dry. Just as he rose to go Roz stirred again. "Please, stay..." she mumbled, still trying to get her senses to cooperate. 

"Does she mean stay or STAY," Frasier pondered, recalling how she had been dancing with him in the bar. "I'm not sure what she means, but I can at least stay in here in case she needs me" he rationalized, not to mention the couch was still a little damp from his cleaning efforts. 

He crawled into the bed stiffly, trying to keep a fair distance away from Roz but before he was even settled she immediately curled up close to him laying her head on his chest. He wondered if she could hear how fast his heart was pounding at her closeness, but she looked like she had pretty much passed out again so he figured it was just an instinctual need for comfort that was leading her to this closeness. He tentatively stroked her hair, easing her back into unconsciousness. The light was still on and as much as he wanted to turn it out, doing so would require completely moving Roz so they just lay there with the light on. Before he realized it he had stopped stroking her hair and had moved on to lightly stroking her facial features, marveling as he had many times before at how beautiful she was. He had known for a very long time that he loved her, but the time had never been right to tell her, plus he knew she would never go for a stuffed shirt like she thought he was. 

Sleep was slow to come for Frasier Crane that night as he couldn't help but think, as he had many times before, what a relationship with Roz could be like. He couldn't risk it, she was the best friend he had ever had outside of his family, and he did not want to risk losing that friendship by becoming one of the many men she cast aside after 3 dates. Finally he drifted off into a troubled sleep.


	4. 

*A/N - I have been told this is somewhat out of character for Roz, just chalk it up to creative license. :-D * 

_Chapter 4_

_LATE MORNING_

"Owwwww" 

Frasier awoke to hear a loud groan as Roz began to wake up, probably with one of the worst hangovers of her life he surmised. He was careful not to move, deciding to let her wake up at her own pace, not to mention with her lying virtually on top of him it would have been rather unsettling. He figured she'd roll off as she was coming to, giving him the opportunity to slip out of the bed unnoticed. Much to his surprise she didn't seem the least bit shocked when she opened her eyes to see him there. 

"Morning," he said softly, not wanting to aggravate her headache. 

"Oh my head," she moaned, then paused to take a look at the situation. "Mmmm..." was all she said as she curled close again, running her fingers over Frasier's chest lightly as she closed her eyes again. Frasier almost squeaked in his response. "Roz what are you doing?" 

"What do you mean, didn't we...." her voice trailed off as she tried to remember what had happened the night before, but nothing came to her. "Tell me what happened, all of it," she demanded, holding her temples. 

Frasier started with the call from the bartender, and told her the whole story, with the exception of how she had danced with him. 

"Oh no, Daphne saw me like this." Roz was obviously embarrassed. 

"She was glad to, besides it was either her or me." Frasier tried to put a positive light on it as he stroked her back trying to keep her calm. "So want to tell me what happened?" He suggested after a few minutes of silence, the body heat between them driving him to distraction. 

"It's so embarrassing," Roz hesitated. 

"How much more embarrassing can it be than last night?" Frasier reasoned. 

"True." Roz groaned, before taking a deep sigh to begin her story. "It was a guy of course. A friend set us up, and he was really good looking and seemed so nice. When I saw him heading through this part of town I asked him where we were going and he said to a motel. So of course then I asked him about dinner and why we were going to a motel instead of his place. I was starting to feel a little odd, you know how the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when something's not quite right? Anyway he said that he just wanted to cut to the action and forget all the preliminaries. He said that the word on the street was that I would jump in the sack with almost anyone." Roz paused trying to hold back the tears that were beginning to threaten. 

Frasier pulled her slightly closer trying to comfort her, yet remaining silent while waiting for her to continue. 

"I told him that I wasn't a hooker and I refused to be treated as such, I was getting mad by this time you know, and then he said that as far as he had heard I was better than a prostitute because I didn't cost anything. Which of course made me smack him and tell him to let me out of the car. That's when things got scary. He laughed and said no way, he wasn't going to let me go before he got what he wanted. So I waited until he slowed down for a stoplight and jumped out of the car. And of course it had to be in the worst part of town... that's when I ran into the bar. I was so humiliated that all I wanted to do was wash away the pain." Roz finished, once again starting to cry as the memories came flooding back. 

Frasier held her close, rocking her in a soothing motion. Thankful the outcome hadn't been worse. 

Roz didn't say anything for several moments as she regained composure, finally sitting up she reached for a tissue. 

"Is my reputation really that bad?" She asked quietly. 

"Oh Roz, he was a jerk, your reputation may be a little blemished, but people aren't calling you a prostitute." Frasier tried to console her, but knew she wanted the truth. 

"A little blemished?" Roz looked up in surprise, "What do you mean." 

"Well Roz, it's no secret that you're not exactly an old-fashioned girl." Frasier tried to put it gently, though still winced as he saw a flash of pain go through her eyes. 

"So you're saying I'm a slut too?" 

"No that's not what I'm saying..." Frasier started trying to extract himself from the sudden hole he seemed to be in. 

"Then what are you saying?" Roz demanded. 

"Roz, just calm down, you're being oversensitive. You've dated and slept with half of Seattle, what do you expect your reputation to be?" He retaliated, immediately feeling regretful at the hurt he saw in her face. 

Roz was silent for several moments digesting this latest piece of information. "Leave." She finally said flatly. 

"What?" 

"I said I want you to leave, I need some time to think." She said again as she pulled away from him and started to stand up. 

"Roz, wait I didin't mean..." Frasier began. 

"I know.. I know, you're right, well not about the half of Seattle part, but you're right." Her shoulders sagged slightly. "Thanks Frasier, you were a good friend to come get me like you did, but now I need to be alone. I promise I'll be OK." Roz assured him. 

"Well, Ok, I guess." Frasier was hesitant as he picked up his clothes and started pulling them on over his shorts and the t-shirt. "Oh did you want this t-shirt back?" He asked, wondering if she would say anything about keeping it. 

"No, that's ok, you can keep it. It was yours after all, I just kept it for....... well never mind. I'll see you tomorrow Frasier." Roz walked him to the door. 

"Kept it for what Roz." He asked quietly, he had to know. 

"Because it was loose and comfortable." She finished quickly, not meeting his eyes as she opened the door. 

Frasier knew that wasn't the truth but sensed it was not the time to press for details, so without saying a word he exited. Leaning against the door for a moment after it shut behind him. Almost tempted to go back in, especially when he heard the muffled sobs coming from the other side of the door before they faded as Roz moved away. 


End file.
